


Crossing the Line

by Trufreak89



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate end to 2x05, F/F, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trufreak89/pseuds/Trufreak89
Summary: An alternate ending to the kitchen scene in 2x05. Eve finds herself crossing the line when she and Villanelle push each other too far.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 14
Kudos: 383





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks, I know it's a little late, but I found this unfinished one-shot from season 2 on my laptop and decided to finish it off. As ever, thanks for reading!

“Are you scared?” Villanelle asks, hazel eyes boring intensely into eyes so dark they’re nearly black. She draws the point of the curved blade she’s holding down the front of Eve Polastri’s tank top. 

The material yields, the blade dipping between the valley of Eve’s breasts. The older woman doesn’t flinch. There’s no begging or pleading. She stands there, hands clutching the bench, shoulders squared, jaw set. 

Villanelle’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. She drags the tip of the knife back up, raking it over the exposed skin of Eve’s chest. It leaves a thin red line in its wake. 

Mesmerised, Villanelle draws a second line that connects with the first, forming a ‘V’. She presses hard enough to draw a bead of blood where the two scratches meet. 

“I said, are you scared?” 

“No.” Eve doesn’t look away. Villanelle feels her pulse quickening. Her excitement grows as she places the blade at Eve’s throat. 

“No? Not even a little?” She leans in closer, caresses the other woman’s cheek with the hand not holding the knife. 

“Are you?” Eve asks, tone level, eyes still locked on the assassin in her kitchen. Villanelle scoffs at the question, her features morphing from icy indifference to amusement. 

Eve’s right hand slips behind her back unnoticed. When she pulls it back out, she’s clutching something small and black. 

Villanelle glimpses it for less than a second. She thinks it’s a phone and laughs at the absurdity. “Why would I be-” Eve thrusts the device forward and blue sparks of electricity light up the end. 

Pain courses through Villanelle’s entire body. Her eyes widen in shock. Her muscles go into spasm, and her knees give way. The pain is sharp and excruciating. It only lasts for five seconds, but it feels like a life-time.  
  
The second Eve lets go of the trigger, the pain stops. Villanelle’s hands unclench, and the knife drops to the tile floor with a clatter. Eve steps forward and kicks it aside. 

Kneeling in front of her, Villanelle is trembling as little aftershocks wrack through her. Her mouth is agape, her expression murderous. “You… you fucking tased me!” 

She places one hand on the floor, intending to push herself back up to her feet. Eve takes a step forward, shoving the taser under Villanelle’s chin. “Yeah, I did. And I’ll do it again if you even think about getting up!”

“That’s not very nice, Eve. You are a terrible host!"  
  
“Well, you’re a shitty guest!” Counters Eve. “Did you come here to kill me?”  
  
“No.” Villanelle shakes her head. “I didn’t. I wasn’t even going to hurt you, but I think I changed my mind!”

“From where I’m standing, you’re not in a position to make the decisions here.” Eve stands firm. She’s in control; so she believes. Villanelle doesn‘t miss the way her hand shakes, or how hard she’s breathing. 

Her lips curl up in a cruel imitation of a smile. “I will make you scream, Eve Polastri… and I think you will like it.” 

“You’re not doing anything, Villanelle. You will sit there and wait until MI6 show up. Otherwise I’ll fry your ass.” 

“Really?” The assassin cocks her head to the side, still wearing that icy smile. Eve moves to keep the taser pressed up against the soft flesh of her throat. “But there are so many more fun things you could do with my ass.” 

Eve falters. 

It only a moment, but it’s enough. Villanelle lunges forward with the cry of a feral animal, knocking the taser from her hand and sending both of them sprawling. 

Eve’s head hits the floor with a thud and stars flash in front of her eyes. Villanelle is on top of her. Her hands find Eve’s throat and squeeze. She gasps and chokes, her fingers clawing at Villanelle’s arms in desperation. “Stop fighting!” Villanelle growls. “I don’t want to do this!” 

“Screw you!” Eve lets out a grunt as she forms a fist and delivers a blow to the other woman’s injured side. Villanelle makes a sound like a dying animal. Her grip loosens, one hand going to her side, and Eve takes her shot. 

She bucks her hips and rolls them both over, slamming Villanelle’s back to the floor and pinning her hands above her head. Eve’s eyes are wide, her breathing shallow, and she has her lips peeled back in a snarl. Beneath her, Villanelle doesn’t put up a fight. Her chest heaves from excitement rather than exertion. 

It wouldn’t take much to reverse their positions again, for Villanelle to retake the upper hand; but she finds she enjoys Eve being on top, her weight bearing down on her, her thighs pressing against either side of Villanelle’s stomach. 

Eve is leaning over her, using her weight to keep Villanelle’s arms pinned to the floor. Their faces are so close that Villanelle can feel the other woman’s every ragged breath against her lips. 

Eve stares down at her, at a loss for what comes next. Villanelle gives her a gentle shove in the right direction. She arches her back and rolls her hips, grinding up against Eve and making her gasp. 

The sound is like music to Villanelle’s ears. She wraps her legs around Eve’s waist and hooks her ankles together before she repeats the action, drawing out another, louder, gasp. 

“What’s the matter, Eve? Is your husband not-” Villanelle doesn’t finish her taunt. Eve shocks them both as she crushes her lips against Villanelle’s, silencing her. 

The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome. 

Villanelle doesn’t miss a beat in kissing her back, and there’s nothing soft or romantic in the way their mouths clash. She tries to flip their positions again, but Eve fights it and they end up rolling into the coffee table.

Eve ends up on top, but her head slams against one of the table legs for her efforts. “Fuck!” She sees stars again as she cradles her forehead and rolls to the side, resting her back against the bottom of the sofa. There's a good chance she'll have a concussion by the time this is all over. 

Villanelle laughs, still lying on her back, lips swollen and dress torn at the shoulders. Eve kicks out at her, but Villanelle catches her foot and uses it to pull herself into a sitting position. 

She moves on Eve like a snake striking to catch its next meal. One hand closes around Eve’s throat, not quite firm enough to stop her breathing, but enough to make each breath difficult to take. 

Eve’s eyes widen, but not with fear. Her lips part eagerly as Villanelle kisses her on the mouth. Eve reaches up, pulling out Villanelle’s ponytail and sending honey-coloured hair cascading over her shoulders; then she buries her fingers in that hair and tugs. 

Villanelle moans into her open mouth, her hips rutting against Eve’s. Pleased with the reaction, Eve tugs again, harder this time. Villanelle responds by squeezing her throat tighter. 

Her free hand hovers over the waistband of Eve’s slacks. For the first time all night, Villanelle looks uncertain. She searches Eve’s face, seeking permission to carry on. Villanelle is a lot of things, but there are lines even she won’t cross. 

Eve shocks herself as she takes hold of Villanelle’s hand and shoves it into her pants. She’s soaking wet and Villanelle can feel it through her underwear. 

She still has a hand around Eve’s throat as she slides her fingers under the flimsy material of her underwear. Eve’s cants her hips up to meet her as their mouths clash again. 

Villanelle finds running two fingers through Eve’s folds is like moving through liquid silk. There’s no denying her response. Eve might try to deny her desires, but her body is incapable of lying to Villanelle. 

The tips of her two fingers press against Eve’s entrance while Villanelle’s thumb brushes over her clit. Eve gasps, her hand still clutching Villanelle’s wrist and her nails digging in hard enough to leave marks.  
  
Eve closes her eyes, but Villanelle growls at her to open them again. She wants Eve to see this. She wants her to witness her own undoing as Villanelle claims what rightly belongs to her; Eve. Mind, body and soul. 

Her fingers tease at Eve’s entrance. Her lips curl up in a smirk as Eve rolls her hips, trying to get Villanelle to penetrate her. “Tell me what you want, Eve. Tell me, and I will give it to you..." 

Eve’s pride doesn’t let her answer, but it can’t stop the whimper that escapes her lips as Villanelle brushes her clit again. “Tell me, Eve.” Villanelle purrs in her ear. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Please!” Eve hates how desperate she sounds, but she can’t help the whiny tone of her voice anymore than she can stop her hips from bucking forward. “Villanelle, god, please-” 

“Please what? Use your words, baby.” Villanelle kisses her way along Eve’s jaw until she reaches her mouth again. 

The rational part of Eve knows this is insane, but that small part of her is no match for Eve’s libido; or Villanelle’s skillful fingers. “Fuck me…” She gasps into Villanelle’s mouth as they kiss. “Please, just fuck me!” 

“As you wish...” At any other time Villanelle’s smugness might be intolerable, but Eve’s mind is elsewhere right now; specifically in her pants. 

Villanelle keeps her promise and gives Eve exactly what she asked for. Thrusting two fingers deep inside of the older woman, she curls them and fucks Eve at a bruising pace. It only takes minutes for her to rip an orgasm from the tightly-wound woman. 

Eve buries her face in Villanelle’s shoulder and sinks her teeth into her flesh to muffle her screams as she rides Villanelle’s fingers, her hips meeting her thrust for thrust.

Villanelle doesn’t let up, even as Eve’s body shudders against her own. She draws out a second orgasm with her thumb mercilessly rubbing against Eve’s clit and her fingers still buried up to the knuckle. 

“Luv, I’m home!” Both women jump as the front door slams shut and Niko’s voice echoes along the hallway. Eve looks like she’s just broken out of a trance. She pulls Villanelle’s hand out of her pants and pushes her away. 

“Vill-” She has every intention of begging for her to leave Niko alone, but she doesn’t need to. Villanelle surges forward, pressing her lips to Eve’s one last time before fleeing out the back door with the grace of a gazelle and the silence of a ghost. 

By the time Niko walks into the room Eve is sitting alone, hair disheveled and sticking to her face with sweat, lips swollen and finger shaped bruises blooming on her throat like wild flowers. 

“What the…” Niko sops in his tracks and takes in the chaos of the surrounding scene. “Is that a taser? What the hell is going on, Eve?” 

It takes longer than Eve likes to calm Niko. She lies her way through explaining Villanelle showing up, while wondering what might have happened had Niko not come home when he had.

She escapes over an hour later, retreating to the seclusion of the bathroom where she can take care of the burning need between her legs. 

After she comes, with Villanelle’s name on her breath, she scrubs furiously between her thighs. Her skin is red raw by the time she steps out and wraps herself in a towel. The bruises on her throat are darkening, marks of shame that will be with her for days. 

She plans on climbing into bed, crawling under the covers and never emerging again. That is until Niko shouts up that she has a phone call. 

Eve cringes. It’s more than likely Carolyn calling to find out whether she’s secured a partnership with Villanelle yet. She has, just not in the way her superior is hoping for. 

She trudges down the stairs and gives the front door a longing glance. Maybe she can just walk out? Leave everything behind? The thought leaves her mind as quickly as it enters. Villanelle will come looking for her; that’s the game they play. 

“H-hello?” Eve’s voice shakes as she takes the house phone from Niko and answers the call. Her husband is sitting across from her at the kitchen table and she’s worried he might overhear something he shouldn’t.  
  
“Eve.” Comes Villanelle’s husky reply. That one word has Eve’s stomach doing flips. She stands up and takes a few steps away from Niko; and she’s glad she does when Villanelle comes out with, “Are you still wet?” 

“Carolyn, hi.” Eve says, forcing an apologetic smile in her husband’s direction. He has that resigned look on his face, the one he wears whenever they argue. 

Covering the phone with one hand, she tells him she needs to step outside for a minute. Niko gives a slight shrug. He doesn’t protest as she slips out the back door. 

“What lie have you just told your husband, Eve?” Villanelle asks in a sing-song voice. 

“What do you want?” Eve snaps. Her cheeks are burning with shame, even though the rest of her body shivers from standing outside in nothing but a towel. 

She can’t believe what she let happen between them earlier. She’s been dancing a fine line with her obsession for the other woman for months, but she never thought she might fall on the wrong side. 

“I want you to answer my question. Are you still wet for me?” 

Eve clenches her eyes shut, trying to ignore the way those words go straight to her core. “I’ve showered.” She replies gruffly. 

“That’s not what I asked.” Villanelle teases. She sounds so amused, as if she has the upper hand. It makes Eve’s blood boil. She doesn‘t stop to consider the words that tumble out of her mouth next. 

“Sorry baby, you weren’t that good.” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Eve knows she’s overstepped as she’s met with stoney silence. “Villanelle?” Telling a psychopath they’re shit in bed is up there with poking a bear in the eye with a stick. Eve realises this too late. “Oksana? I - I didn’t mean that. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

_‘Like kill my husband’_ Eve thinks to herself. 

The prolonged silence unnerves Eve, and she babbles. “I’ve never… I’ve never come like that, okay? You made my fucking toes curl and… I’m married and we’re… I don’t know what we are, but it shouldn’t have happened.” 

“Do you want it to happen again?” Villanelle finally speaks. She doesn’t sound so cocksure now. 

“Yes.” Eve sighs and the truth comes spilling out. “God, yes. It’s all I can think about!” 

“I will text you my address. Be here within thirty-minutes.” It’s a command, not a request, and Eve feels a shiver run up and down her spine. 

“What should I tell Niko?” 

“I don’t care.” Villanelle answers. Her tone is icy as she tries to hide her excitement. “Thirty-minutes. Be here.” The call cuts out. Eve is staring at her phone when the text message comes.

The address is somewhere in Kensington. If Eve takes a taxi, she can be there in twenty minutes. Except she can’t possibly go. Can she? 

Eve walks through the back door in a haze, her mind elsewhere. Niko notices. “Everything okay, luv?” 

“Huh? Oh… yeah. I have to go back to work. Something came up.” Her explanation is vague and half-hearted. Niko doesn’t question it. Eve tells herself she might have reconsidered if he tried. 

She takes ten minutes to change into a blouse and a pencil skirt. She looks like she’s leaving for work, except under the sensible outfit she’s wearing lacy black lingerie and stockings. 

Eve stares at herself in the mirror, scrutinising her appearance. Are the stockings too much? Will Villanelle balk at the sexy lingerie? Has she overdone it? Should she be doing this? 

Her Uber pulls up five minutes later. 

Eve races down the stairs, slipping her stockinged feet into a pair of black heels. She calls out a hasty goodbye to Niko. 

“Bye, Darling. Love you!” He replies from the kitchen. She stops with her hand on the door, flooded with guilt; but it’s not enough to make her stop. 

“Yeah, me too.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to add a second part since so many peple asked.

  
The address Villanelle gave her turns out to be a luxury hotel in South Kensington. A doorman in a crushed velvet top hat and tail coat nods politely as he opens the door for her. It’s just the sort of place Villanelle would stay. 

Eve reaches to tug the strap of her purse, but then realises she never brought it. She resists the urge to shove her hands into the pockets of her coat instead. 

The spacious lobby of the grand hotel is brightly lit despite the late hour. Eve’s high heels click-clack as she makes her way across the marble floor towards the bank of elevators at the rear of the lobby. 

Eve steps into the first elevator that dings open and punches the button for the tenth floor. She checks her phone to double check she’s going to the right floor. Villanelle sent her the room number while she was in the taxi. 

Eve watches the floor numbers rise, agonisingly slowly one-by-one. She has time to change her mind three times before the elevator stops at the tenth floor. 

Stepping out into the corridor, Eve finds it empty. It’s the middle of the night and the hotel is far from a budget chain full of stag parties. Eve takes a steadying breath before making her way down the hall, the thick carpet muffling the sound of her heels until she stops outside room 1005. 

The ‘do not disturb’ sign is hanging on the door handle, because of course it is. Villanelle is a presumptuous little shit, and it’s almost enough for Eve to turn and walk away; almost, but not quite. 

She pauses with her hand in the air, ready to strike the door, and questions whether she should pull out the hasty ponytail she shoved her hair in after her shower. Standing outside Villanelle’s hotel room already feels too much like losing, though, so she keeps it up. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. 

Eve knocks with a confidence she doesn’t really feel. Villanelle takes her time in answering. It seems an age before Eve hears the click of the lock disengaging and the door finally opens.   
Villanelle stands there in all her glory, honey-coloured hair worn up in an effortless messy bun and cat-like eyes raking over her late-night guest. 

She’s wearing a silk bathrobe that she’s tied loosely at the waist and ends abruptly just below her hips. Eve forces herself to look the younger woman in the eye, refusing to let her attention wander. 

“Hi, Eve.” Villanelle leans against the door frame and greets her with a toothy grin, like Eve’s appearance is totally out of the blue, and not the result of a husky command uttered to her over the phone. She looks the older woman up and down without shame or hesitation, her eyes lingering on Eve’s stocking clad legs. Her tongue runs slowly over her lips, wetting them in anticipation. “Won’t you come in?” 

Villanelle makes no attempt to move, so Eve is forced to push silently past her to get into the hotel room. Behind her, Villanelle closes and locks the door. The metallic ‘click’ of the lock sounds a hundred times louder in the silence. Eve pauses just inside the room, in the short hallway between the bathroom and the bedroom. Her heart races as Villanelle slips past her and takes a seat on the end of the king-sized bed that dominates the room. 

There’s a desk and a chair standing beside her, so Eve shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the chair. Villanelle watches her closely, like a leopard stalking its next meal. Eve feels her cheeks burning up under the scrutiny. She’s second guessing everything from her outfit to even coming here at all by the time Villanelle finally speaks. 

“Strip.” It’s a single word, delivered confidently by the younger woman leaning back on her hands. She looks so smug and sure of herself that Eve wants to stalk forward and slap the smile she’s wearing right off her face. Rash decisions led her to this situation in the first place, so Eve bites her lip and counts to five before she replies. 

“No.” 

Villanelle sits forward, resting her hands on her knees. Her eyes are alight with amusement. This is all part of their game, anyway. She pushes and Eve pushes right back. “How do I know you’re not hiding any weapons?” She gives Eve a pointed look as she rubs at her side. It still hurts from Eve’s earlier sucker punch, but Villanelle would die before she admits it. 

“I don’t have pockets.” Eve throws her hands up, part in frustration and in part to show Villanelle that the skirt she’s wearing has no pockets.

Villanelle cocks her head to the side. “You’re a smart woman, Eve. Who knows what you could hide, and where.” She shrugs, like Eve needs to do as she’s asked and there’s nothing Villanelle can do about it; except she can. She’s in complete control here and she’s doing everything she can to show Eve that. 

“Fine!” Eve huffs, refusing to back down, exactly as Villanelle expects from her. She furiously yanks open the top button of her shirt and makes her down to the last. She shrugs the shirt off her shoulders and tosses it to the floor, chest heaving with anger.

Villanelle’s gaze is glued to her now, revelling in each new inch of skin that is slowly revealed to her. Her eyes widen as Eve shimmies out of her skirt and she realises the older woman is wearing knee-high stockings and not tights. She’s breathing just as hard as Eve is as she takes in the sexy black lingerie. 

Villanelle looks like a kid on Christmas morning and Eve feels her earlier victory slip away. Maybe she has lost their little game, but earlier, with Villanelle inside of her, it sure felt a lot like winning. She lets down her hair and ruffles it with her fingers, scoring points as Villanelle grabs fistfuls of duvet to stop herself surging forward. 

“Happy I’m not concealing any weapons?” Asks Eve. 

“Not quite.” Villanelle’s accent is thick and husky as she gets to her feet. She does her best to appear calm as she approaches the objection of her obsession. “I think I still need to frisk you.” 

“Really?” Eve rolls her eyes, because as much as she wants Villanelle’s hands on her again there’s no way she can give in without a fight. That’s not her style. 

“Really.” Villanelle nods. She slips behind Eve and takes a moment to appreciate the fruity scent of her shampoo. Her hands find Eve’s shoulders, and her fingers brush against the bruises blooming around her throat. Villanelle presses in close as she runs her hands along the tops of Eve’s arms, right down to her fingertips and then back up to her armpits. It’s pure indulgence on Villanelle’s part and they both know it. 

Her hands glide down Eve’s sides, stopping at her hips before coming around to settle on her stomach. Eve closes her eyes as Villanelle nuzzles her face against her cheek, and the tips of her fingers dip below the waistband of Eve’s underwear. “You are so sexy…” Villanelle purrs in her ear, and it’s too much and too soft, and Eve wishes she would hurry up and take what she wants already. 

She’s left disappointed as Villanelle moves out from behind her, though her excitement rises as the all-powerful assassin kneels in front of her. She runs both hands up one of Eve’s legs, her knuckles brushing against the spot Eve wants her to touch as she reaches the top of one thigh and switches to the other leg. Eve is a ticking time bomb ready to explode as Villanelle gets back to her feet and sits on the bed. 

Eve takes a step to follow - no longer caring how eager she seems - but Villanelle holds up a hand to stop her. “No. Get on your hands and knees.” 

“Dream on!” Eve sneers, even as a hot flash of desire strikes through her. 

“Oh, I dream about you, Eve.” Villanelle’s lips curl up in a cruel smirk as she reaches for the belt of her bathrobe. She gives it a gentle tug, and the bow gives way. Eve hungrily watches as Villanelle leans back on her hands again, letting the robe gape open and reveal a hint of those god-damned tits that have haunted Eve’s dreams since long before she knew the other woman’s name. 

She’s naked under the robe, all soft tanned skin and a patch of neatly trimmed curls at her centre. “I dream of all the things I could do to you…” She trails off, and the connotation is clear: Villanelle won’t do anything unless Eve surrenders.  
  
Under any other circumstances Eve might have called her bluff, but half-naked and touch-starved Eve doesn’t have it left in her to fight her desire for the other woman. Glaring at Villanelle while she does it, Eve gets down on to her knees. Villanelle looks more surprised than vindicated as her cat-like eyes grow comically wide. She licks her dry lips and then beckons Eve towards her. 

Eve swallows what little pride she has left as she moves forward on her hands and knees, coming to a stop between Villanelle’s parted legs. Her cheeks are burning with shame as she stares at the floor, refusing to give Villanelle the pleasure of seeing the defeat in her eyes. 

Villanelle leans in and cups her chin, forcing Eve to look up at her as she says, “I think you want someone else to take control, Eve… I think you need it.” She kisses her, and it’s tender and intimate, a far cry from the exchanges they shared earlier. Villanelle is kissing her like a lover rather than an enemy, and that’s not what this is supposed to be. 

Defiantly, Eve climbs into her lap without breaking the kiss. She bites down on Villanelle’s bottom lip hard enough to make her cry out and she doesn’t feel so powerless anymore. She tugs out Villanelle’s bun, sending honey-coloured waves cascading over her shoulders, and buries her fingers in her hair. 

Villanelle moans into Eve’s open mouth, and it’s all too much again. She loses the higher ground as Villanelle stands, scooping Eve up and carrying her like she weighs little more than a doll. Eve kicks off her heels, letting them clatter to the floor. Without warning, Villanelle throws Eve back down on the bed, and the urgency between them is back. She crawls on top of Eve, easily overpowering the smaller woman that struggles beneath her. She pins Eve’s arms above her head, their bodies pressed together and their mouths inches apart. 

“Don’t fight me, Eve. Let me take care of you, Baby…” She kisses Eve on the mouth again, before moving to kiss a trail down her throat. Her teeth rake lightly over one of Eve’s collarbones and the fight leaves the older woman. Her wrists go limp beneath Villanelle’s bruising grip. 

“I don’t…” Eve starts and there’s something about the way her voice cracks that makes Villanelle stop and sit back. She straddles Eve’s hips, her robe hanging open and showing off a body that wouldn’t look amiss on a statue carved from marble. There are tears welling up in the corners of Eve’s eyes until she clenches them shut. 

“I don’t deserve that.” She lets out a sob and her mascara runs as the tears fall and her chest heaves. 

“Eve-” Villanelle frowns, genuine concern marring her face. She brings a hand up to cup Eve’s cheek, but she opens her eyes and turns her head away, while burying her hands in her hair. Everything has come to a head and Eve can’t take it anymore. She can’t hold it all in. 

“I fucking stabbed you!” She shouts, and it’s a good job Villanelle has expensive taste in hotels so the walls are too thick for the people in the neighboring rooms to hear her. “I stabbed you and I thought… I thought you were-” 

“I’m okay.” Villanelle cups her face with both hands, forcing Eve to look at her. “See?” She takes hold of one of Eve’s hands and guides it to her side. The stitches of Villanelle’s stab wound are rough under Eve’s fingertips, but they’re almost ready to come out and the skin beneath them is pink and rosy. 

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.” Villanelle chuckles, drawing a tentative smile from the other woman. 

“Tell me about it.” Says Eve. She settles her hands on Villanelle’s hips, drawing small patterns into her bare skin with her fingers. Losing her smile, she adds, “I’m so sorry… I panicked.” 

“I know that’s why I frisked you this time. We don’t have a great history being in bed together.” Villanelle grins, and it’s so easy for her to forgive. Eve isn’t sure she can forgive herself so easily. She almost killed someone. She almost killed Villanelle. 

“Just let go. Let me make it better.” Villanelle pulls out the belt from her robe before shrugging it off, letting the material pool at her waist as she holds the silk belt in her hands. “Do you trust me, Eve? 

The answer ‘NO’ screams through Eve’s head like a fire alarm, but the word that slips from her mouth is, “Yes.” She brings her arms up above her head and crosses them at her wrists. Villanelle doesn’t move at first, as if she’s stunned that Eve actually said yes to her. 

Her hands shake as she ties the belt around Eve’s wrists, binding them together with a loose knot. Her eyes don’t leave the older woman’s for fear of Eve suddenly changing her mind. She kisses and licks her way down Eve’s body while tugging her underwear down her legs. 

The pair only break eye contact as Villanelle kisses the inside of Eve’s thigh. Eve throws her head back against the plush hotel pillow and arches her back. She starts bringing her hands down to push Villanelle in the direction she needs her, but stops as she feels the silk bite into her wrists; a visceral reminder of who is in charge.

“Please-” Eve gasps because she is not beyond begging, not when Villanelle’s talented tongue is so close to where she wants it. Eve would be lying if she said she had never thought about Villanelle’s multilingual tongue and what else it might be adept at.  
  
Villanelle doesn’t torture her - they’ve done enough of that to each other to last a lifetime - she dips her head and runs her tongue through Eve’s folds. She’s already wet and Villanelle hums in appreciation at the taste of her. There’s nothing like the tang of another woman on her tongue, and that woman being Eve makes it all the sweeter. 

“Fuck!” Eve curses as her hips buck forward. She’s already so turned on, it feels like the last few months of chasing Villanelle have been nothing but foreplay. “God, Villanelle… Please…”   
Villanelle doesn’t need much encouragement. She uses her fingers to part Eve’s lips and buries her tongue in the other woman to taste her properly. 

Eve wrestles her way free of her bindings and buries her fingers in Villanelle’s hair, pushing and tugging at the same time. She writhes and moans beneath Villanelle as she replaces her tongue with two fingers before diligently attacking her clit. It doesn’t take long before Eve is thrashing around violently, riding out her orgasm against Villanelle’s face. 

Villanelle climbs back up the bed to lie beside Eve, laughing and smiling as Eve curls up on her side and buries her face in the crook of her neck. “That was… wow.” Eve lets out a laugh of her own.   
  
“Hmm.” Villanelle agrees with a nod. Her eyes are wide and glazed over, like she was the one who just came harder than she ever had in her life, and not Eve. Even in her spaced out post-orgasm haze, Eve realises the other woman is probably dying for some kind of release of her own. 

“Uh, do you- Should I…” Eve trails off, unsure of how to ask. She knows the basics of what having sex with another woman entails; at the same time she also knows the fundamentals of making a souffle, but that doesn’t mean she can whip one up, shove it in the oven and expect the end result to be anything less than a disaster. 

“That’s okay.” Villanelle purrs, her hand disappearing between her legs. “Tonight is about taking care of you. I can look after myself.” And just like that, the woman Eve has obsessed over for months is lying across from her fucking herself. 

Eve becomes engrossed, watching in awe and jealousy as Villanelle fingers herself to an orgasm and comes beautifully undone before her eyes. Eve reaches forward, covering Villanelle’s hand with her own and she throws her head back, parts her lips and cries out Eve’s name. 

Later, after Villanelle has acquainted herself with every inch of Eve’s body - and made her come so many times that Eve has lost count - the pair lie tangled together under the covers, their fates irreversibly tied together for good. 

“Why did you put a hit on yourself, anyway?” Villanelle asks out of nowhere, the index finger of her left hand idly tracing patterns into the soft flesh of Eve’s stomach. 

Eve is so far gone down the rabbit hole she struggles to understand the question. Everything outside of this room and the past few hours seems a distant memory. “To get your attention.” She finally says. 

Villanelle chuckles in her ear. “There are easier ways to do that.” 

“Like turn up at your hotel room in the middle of the night?” 

“Hmm, yes.” Villanelle agrees before taking her earlobe between her lips, the sensation shoots straight between her legs; which is a surprise to Eve because she wasn’t even sure she could still feel the lower half of her body.

“You’re freelance now. MI6 want to hire you.” She explains. 

“Hmm, so you’d be my boss?” 

“Not really, I- ” Eve cuts off as Villanelle’s hand travels between her thighs, her fingers teasing Eve’s already overstimulated clit. 

“In that case, I’d better make the most of being the boss tonight. Hadn’t I?”   
“Hmm.” Eve sighs, arching into Villanelle’s touch without even the pretext of putting up a fight. They’re so far beyond that now. “Yes. Yes, you should.”


End file.
